Stowaway
by theDeadTree
Summary: Sara's latest attempt to escape the med-bay is thwarted by her brother.


**Note/Disclaimer:** yet another ME:A one-shot. Because reasons. Takes place post-endgame, so spoilers for everything.

Mass Effect belongs to BioWare.

* * *

"Any particular reason you're trying to stowaway on my ship?"

Sara jumped violently at the sudden accusation, turning on her heels to face her twin brother who stood there, leaning on the wall and watching her with a small, mischievous smile. Sara had to resist the urge to let out a loud groan and bang her head against the wall. This is exactly _not_ what she wanted to happen.

"Scott!" she all but screamed his name as she tried overly hard to act casual. "I have _no_ idea what you're talking about."

His eyes narrowed. "Have you even cleared medical yet?"

She nodded – a little too enthusiastically. "Sure. Of course I have."

Scott didn't move, or say anything, simply remained precisely where he was, watching her with a quirked eyebrow that told her that he didn't buy her story, even for a second. Perhaps she should've seen that coming. She'd never been a good liar; that had always been their father's area of expertise.

Her gut seemed to clench at the mere thought of their father, and she found herself once again remembering their mother's funeral – the funeral it turned out, they never needed to have. Not wanting to give them false hope, she understood. But had it really been better to let them go through all the pain of losing their mother unnecessarily? What if this insane scheme to save her didn't work, and they lost her again? What was he really sparing them from, by lying? Pain they'd already gone through?

She still wasn't sure if she would ever be able to forgive their father for putting them through that. Scott certainly wouldn't. He'd made that abundantly clear.

She glanced back at her brother, who was still waiting for her to cave and admit to her already unbelievable lie, completely unaware of the melancholic turn of her thought process. She didn't know what to make of him anymore. Sometimes, it was like he hadn't changed at all, and they may as well be fifteen again. Then something would happen that would remind her of everything he's been through since hitting Andromeda and she'd find herself staring at him, marvelling at how he was even still alive.

He was like Dad, she decided. Too much. He'd hate her for thinking that of him, vehemently claim it wasn't the case, insist that he was his own person, that their father had nothing to do with him. Maybe that was why they had butted heads so much – maybe that was why Scott reacted so strongly to the accusation that they were in any way alike. Maybe he saw the similarities too. Maybe that was what scared him, more than anything else.

Finally, she slumped, knowing she was never going to get anywhere if she kept pushing with that story.

"Okay, maybe not. But I'm _fine,_ Scott. Really."

"You had a brain haemorrhage," he pointed out dryly. "Several, actually. You could've died."

She fought the urge to groan. "I didn't."

"That doesn't make it _better,_ Sara."

" _You_ had a haemorrhage too. _And_ you got shot. Multiple times. Why aren't _you_ still in the med-bay?"

" _I'm_ the Pathfinder," he reminded her, like it explained absolutely everything.

He was saying that with a lot more conviction now, she noticed. Like he was finally accepting it, treating the title as less of a hand-me-down from Dad and more like his own. As something he earned. Sara tried not to breathe a sigh of relief at that – if Scott hadn't earned the Pathfinder rank by now, he never would. Meridian was only a testament to how far he'd come since first taking over the position.

But she couldn't tell him that. Oh no. He'd be irritatingly smug about it for weeks.

"You know, being Pathfinder doesn't make you immune to injury," Sara pointed out dryly. "And you were sloppy in that fight with the Archon, by the way. Dad would've had a fit if he'd seen you."

Scott just blinked owlishly at her several times, her words appearing to not quite register in his brain for some time.

"Was I?" he asked distantly, his eyes glazing over slightly as he no doubt raked through his own memories of what happened. "Huh."

"You almost sound like you don't remember."

In an instant, he snapped back into the present, his lips cracking into a wild grin.

"I was quite high on the most absurdly powerful cocktail of drugs at the time," he told her cheerfully. "There's a lot about that whole fiasco I don't really remember."

That was… not what she'd been expecting to hear. Charging in to save the day, guns blazing, it was exactly the kind of thing she expected Scott to remember in agonisingly clear detail, as something he could hold her over for the rest of their lives. She didn't know whether to be worried or relieved that wasn't the case.

"Seems like that should be cause for concern," she said slowly.

Scott just shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm alright."

"…you're lying to make me stop asking questions, aren't you?"

He smiled slyly and didn't answer, which pretty much told Sara everything she wanted to know. He could be as evasive as he wanted – she'd been there. She'd seen the wreck he'd been after the fight. One more frightening reminder that she was _mortal,_ that her family was mortal, that they were all so incredibly fragile and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Come on," Scott called softly, offering his hand.

Sara eyed him suspiciously, not sure what to make of it.

"Where are we going?" she asked as she gingerly took his hand and let him wrench her up to her feet.

"Back to medical," he answered as he guided her back through the main complex of Port Meridian – what everyone was now calling the burned-out husk of the downed Ark Hyperion.

She rolled her eyes dramatically and shook her head. "I swear, you didn't used to be this much of a killjoy."

"Ah, shame," Scott sighed wistfully in response, before glancing up at the ceiling. "Here I was going to try wrangle it so you could be assigned to the Tempest after being discharged, but if I'm _that_ much of a pain to be around, maybe I'll just leave it, let you get assigned to Nexus security or something-"

He cut off abruptly as she punched his shoulder.

"Okay, _ow,"_ he hissed, rubbing where she'd hit him. "You are really not helping your case, you know that?"

"Don't you _dare."_

"Well Harry, I thought she was fine, but she's lashing out uncontrollably, doesn't even seem aware of what she's doing, do you think her brain functions were damaged in some way? Maybe seventeen more tests, just to make sure? Maybe twenty?"

"Scott."

" _Sara's brain activity is running as per normal, and her behaviour is not out of character. I would surmise she is simply irritated with you, Pathfinder. There is no immediate cause for concern."_

Both Ryders stopped dead in their tracks, surprised by SAM's interruption.

"Thank you, SAM," Sara called to the AI sweetly, after a brief pause. "At least _something_ is on my side here."

"Well, you're no fun," Scott muttered, folding his arms and trying his best to look unimpressed. "I'm still taking you back to medical."

"You are my least favourite brother."

He hummed thoughtfully at her comment, and Sara waited for the obligatory _I'm your only brother_ rebuke; but it never came.

"If that's the price I must pay for you to be okay, then I'll take it," he said after a brief pause, all traces of humour suddenly gone.

"You're pushing this awfully hard," she observed.

He pulled a face at that, mildly affronted by her suggestion. "Jesus, Sara, can't a guy just be worried about his brain damaged sister in peace?"

"I'm not _brain damaged."_

"Maybe not," he agreed, his voice quickly growing quiet and distant. "But what happened was because of me. I was an idiot and I let myself get manipulated and you suffered for it. I'm not putting you through that again."

"Ah," Sara breathed, as she finally began to understand.

This was a guilt thing.

 _Of course_ it was a guilt thing. Scott was surprisingly easy to guilt trip. All anyone had to do was imply that maybe something was possibly his fault, and he'd automatically send himself spiralling into a deep, dark abyss of depression. She used to antagonise him for fun, back when they were kids, just to watch his reaction before he realised she was having him on. Now…

It wasn't funny anymore.

"I didn't know that bothered you."

Even though she should've. Because of course it would.

"Hearing your sister screaming in pain because she's essentially getting tortured isn't the kind of thing you forget," he told her, his voice strained and a hoarse. "Drugs or not."

"It wasn't your fault."

"Wasn't it?" he contradicted quietly. "I was trying to save the entire damn cluster and I couldn't even keep my own _sister_ safe."

"I'm not your responsibility, Scott," she told him softly, not sure what else to say.

He let out a bitter shout of laughter and shook his head. "You got hurt on my watch. _That's_ my responsibility, Sara. I have to do what I can to make that right; whether you agree or not."

There was a brief pause as Sara struggled to work out how to reply to that. Sending Scott into a downward spiral of depression was easy. Pulling him out of one? Distinctly more difficult. She was almost inclined to say it was nigh on impossible.

"You know, for someone who used to say he didn't want to be anything like Dad," she began, "you're sounding an awful lot like him."

For the longest time, Scott didn't reply.

"If he could see you now…" she continued, awkwardly trailing off when she saw his lip curl at the mere mention of their father.

"He'd berate me for not doing a better job," he finished for her scathingly. _"Why didn't you do this,_ or, _all of it could've been avoided if you'd just stopped to think,_ not to mention the timeless classic; _you were reckless and people got hurt because of it._ Oh, here's a new one – _I didn't die saving you from asphyxiation so you could be an idiot, Scott."_

"He'd be _proud,_ Scott," she corrected.

Scott snorted derisively at her. "Sure."

She sighed. "One day you'll believe it."

She could only hope.

"Hey Harry," Scott greeted Dr Carlyle in the most candid way possible as the doors to med-bay slid open and they both made their way inside. "Realised that I'm fresh out of recon specialists and decided to try stealing one. I think this one's broken, though, she keeps hitting me and saying things that don't make sense. Think you can fix her?"

Sara shoved him away. "You're the worst."

Harry Carlyle's eyebrows rose as he silently glanced over the top of his datapad at the two of them. "If you need more people on your team, Scott, I'm sure they can assign someone."

For a moment, Scott pulled back, looking thoughtful, as if he was seriously considering it. And then;

"I'm kind of attached to this one, though. Can I put a claim on her when she's cleared for duty? I'm okay with waiting."

Harry seemed to be barely paying attention, too engrossed in other things. Either that, or he, like everyone else who'd known Scott for any extended period of time, had decided that it was just easier to play along. "Sure."

Scott grinned and pulled Sara close, affectionately ruffling her hair. "Great! I think I'll call her… Sara."

"Going to actually murder you in thirty seconds," she bit back at him.

"Not until you've cleared medical, young lady," he shot back without missing a beat.

"Murder, Scott. With that fancy asari sword you have."

"Really. You, the one who never exercised her biotic potential, plan to kill me, the one who did, with a biotic sword. How exactly do you plan to pull this off?"

"I'm creative."

"Of course," he drawled, before leading her to the nearest bed and easing her into it. "You. Rest."

She groaned loudly. "I'm not sure I like you when you're responsible."

"I promise to stage a brilliant daring rescue and take you adventuring across the stars when I'm totally sure you're not about to fall apart. Sound fair?"

"Ugh, I guess so."

"…and Sara?"

"Mm?"

"Thanks," he mumbled awkwardly, raking a hand through his hair and clearly wishing he was absolutely anywhere else, having any other conversation. "For saying Dad would be proud. It… means a lot."

She smiled. "Didn't I say you couldn't stay mad at him forever?"

"Yes. Yes, you did. You're very smart. Shut up."

"Don't get me wrong Scott, it was a valiant effort."

"But he was our dad and forever's a long time and he died saving my life so I can't. Yes. I know. We can stop having this conversation now," he said very quickly, turning heel and heading for the door.

"Love you, Scott," she called after him.

His reply was immediate. "Love you too Sara."

And then he was gone.


End file.
